


A Fine Wine

by izzyb



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-28
Updated: 2009-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-09 18:58:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/90496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzyb/pseuds/izzyb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McCoy loves the taste of Christine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fine Wine

She was a fine wine, slightly sweet but with a bite that you didn't expect from her soft eyes and cultured voice. He loved to trace his tongue over her lips and get that heady feeling that this wasn't the taste of the last thing she ate or drank, but really just her. Only undiluted Christine could be this addicting.

He mapped her body with his hands, even though he had been there before, touched her there before, made her make those noises before. The feeling of discovery never got old—he would go down on her for hours except for the insistent tugging on his hair and the impatient "Leonard, get your ass up here and kiss me."

He obeyed, because even though licking around her clit slowly and almost clinically—he had to make sure her body was in working order, after all—was a joy in itself, he was as impatient as she was for him to lick his way back into her mouth.

This time, though, when he leaned down to suck at her neck like he usually did, she distracted him with a quick movement she must have learned in her hand-to-hand classes at the academy—the ones he used to skip—her lithe legs twisting stealthily around his as she flipped them so that she was grinning down at him.

"Much better," she decided, murmuring it into his ear, inserting a knee to open his legs up for her own exploration. She palmed his erection first, stroking him lightly, leaning down to lick his nipple and give a quick suck before backing away almost distractedly, rubbing her cheek against his chest.

Hell no. He required her full attention.

Even on top, she was easily manipulated into allowing herself to be lifted up with strong hands into straddling him and sinking down in increments until they were both gulping deep breaths of air as if the room's had suddenly grown too heavy to stand.

When she was excited, like right now, she tasted more of salt, like the tequila his ex liked to disguise the taste of in one of those frothy drinks. Close to orgasm, Christine became straight-up tequila shots as she gasped into his mouth, tightening her inner muscles on him and nibbling his lower lip with those straight and lethal teeth, breath hot against his chin.

He punished himself by tearing his mouth from hers and losing that warmth, that taste of home, making his need ebb enough to bring her to peak with a steady thumb and slow, measured thrusts. The loss he felt at losing her mouth paled in comparison to the sight of her head thrown back in pleasure, fingers gripping his skin tightly as if afraid that she might float away.

She removed her hands from his arms and placed them on the bed on either side of him as he pounded into her, biting her swollen lips to keep in the words and sounds that would make her blush when he mimicked them later, whispering it into her ear as she tried to concentrate on her charts. The white-hot pleasure of his impending release made the taste disappear for a moment and he panicked, pulling her head down to kiss her brutally and make it appear sharply once more.

They collapsed, wrapped up together and he still needed her scent, her presence--just so that he knew that the taste wasn't going anywhere. The need was so strong that even as he held her to him tightly, exhausted, and her breathing evened out in sleep, he licked his lips unconsciously, anticipating his next drink.


End file.
